Inevitably
by Limegreen16
Summary: Nothing in the world could help him forget about Blair Archibald. And it's been over two decades. She, on the other hand, lives in denial. But how long can it last? Follows post 2.15. N/B/C.
1. Chapter 1

Blair Archibald likes to think she has it all: a rich, and handsome husband, beautiful children, and a privileged life.

She and Nate are married, and friends, like they've slipped into the comforts of marriage so easily, and effortlessly. But that's just it, they're _friends._ And she doesn't want to delude herself more and say they're in love.

Love isn't a priority anymore, really. It's all in the image, and of course, her children are most important.

Audrey is her in every way, except more athletic, and less. . .obsessive. She is also on-off-on-off (Blair has given up trying to keep track), with none other than Daniel Bass.

Josiah inherited his father's good looks, from his eyes, to his hair. And then there's the Archibald charm. It's evident in the way he stands, even at a young age of thirteen. Blair is grateful, really, that both her children have _her_ intelligence, and so is Nate.

(As he tells her.)

--

"Mom?" Audrey asks cautiously. "Can we. . .talk?"

"Sure."

Blair looks at her daughter, who looks scared and out-of-words, and something tells her this is serious. She's never been the "talk" type.

"You know Daniel, right? The guy I've been. . .seeing, lately."

"Of course."

"I don't know if he's serious, or just chasing me for sport. . .He has this reputation, you know. I guess I keep hoping for him to change, when it's not even clear what's between us.."

She has to keep from smiling. "I see. And you're asking me for advice?"

"Well, you said you used to be friends with his dad. They're pretty much the same."

"Right." Blair pushes Chuck out her mind, and tries to think of a solution or answer. "Audrey, I'll think about this, okay? Try to. . .remember some things that could help."

"Okay. Thanks, mom."

--

It's weird, really, how she came about calling Chuck Bass. It's been a long time since she's had the nerve to do it, and she's unsure about how he'll take it.

"Chuck Bass," he answers curtly.

"It's me. Blair."

He's silent for awhile, and she regrets even calling.

"Wal—" He pauses. "_Archibald_, nice to hear from you."

"Bass," she replies, trying not to smile. "Don't worry, I'm calling to talk about your son."

"Daniel?"

"How many do you have?" she retorts. "He's been screwing my daughter."

She knows he's smirking. "Of course he is."

"Tell him to stop it, or tell him to get serious.. Audrey doesn't need a Bass in her life doing this right now."

"Speaking from experience?"

She blushes, grateful he can't see her. He sighs, and gives up the facade.

"How's Nate?" he asks bitterly.

"He's fine. Over in China for some investment contracts to be signed, and he's coming back on Tuesday," she answers with enough details to hopefully make him picture a happy, in love couple.

"And how is the Mrs. Archibald?"

"Fine."

He doesn't press on, even if part of her wants him to. She wants to tease him, about still being a bachelor after all these years, but then it would hit a hit on her too. She wants to tell him that she still misses him sometimes, after all these years.

But the wedding ring on her finger stops her.

"Chuck, I need to go. I have a meeting," she says quickly. "So, goodbye."

"Wait, Blair—"

"What?"

"Do you want to meet up, to talk, or something? As friends, of course."

She considers this, and how Nate would react if he knew. He would probably think of it, and say it would be fine, throwing a little joke in. He's Nate.

She's over Chuck, has been for a long time, but it's a fragile thing.

"I'm sorry."

Then she drops the phone before she can hear even more.

--

To her surprise, Daniel Bass appears in their penthouse the next day. Scarf around his neck, and flowers in his hand, he asks (politely, or charmingly) for Audrey.

Dorota calls for her daughter, and Blair invites him to sit on the couch with her.

"Daniel, would you like a drink?"

"Scotch would be fine, Mrs. Archibald."

_Of course. _

Hiding a smirk, she calls for two glasses of scotch and proceeds with the interrogation.

"It's a surprise to see you here, Daniel," she says sweetly.

He nods. He's not admitting anything.

"What are you really doing here?" she asks frankly. Daniel looks a bit surprised.

"My father talked to me."

"And?"

"Said if I really liked your daughter," he starts, clearing his throat. "I shouldn't take her for granted. That I'd regret it one day if I did. And he said he wanted me to do things right."

Blair looks at him, and feels like her stomach is weak so suddenly. It's a surprise that a Bass would reveal so much, but then again, he wants to make it clear(or pretend), that it's because of his dad he's there.

She's still in her own world, but snaps out when Audrey appears eyes on the boy.

She excuses herself and heads straight to the bathroom, and throws up.

(The first for a long time.)

Blame the damn butterflies, she thinks. They're supposed to be murdered, buried, and forgotten.

--

The party is seriously boring, and the only thing she'd doing is watching Audrey slow dance with Daniel in the middle of the room. And she smiles, because it reminds her of. . .

"You know, I really think she's going to be the one for him."

. . .Chuck and her.

She pretends being so near to him isn't making her heart race. "Bass."

He sits next to her.

"Nate's just talking to some people, you know," she says. "Over there."

"Which means I have little time." He pauses, obviously wanting to say something. "Did you ever think we'd end up like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You, married to Nathaniel, and both of us watching our children fall in love."

She shakes her head. "Not really. But I wanted to be Mrs. Archibald in kindergarten, remember?"

"I remember," he says, grinning. "Wasn't it ever me?"

"When I was temporarily insane." She smiles, and looks over at him.

His eyes are as dark as she remembers, and the small lines in the corners of his eyes just make him look more distinguished. The smell of his cologne threatens to make her sick, and yet she wants nothing more than to breathe it in.

"Why?"she asks, curious.

"Nothing. It's just that I think about it sometimes, you know." His eyes seem so close to her own; it's all she can see, and it's so hard to breathe. "I used to think that if I ended up with anyone, it'd be you."

She shifts on her chair. "Why are you saying these things, Chuck?" she asks quietly. "I'm happy."

"I miss you. And I think about it a lot," he tells her softly. "I should've never pushed you back to Nathaniel."

She can't reply, and silently waits for something, _anything, _to break the awkwardness. His eyes are on her, and hers are determinedly anywhere else.

"Chuck?" Nate suddenly stands before them, grinning. "Hey, I haven't seen you in a long time."

He shakes Nate's hand, and glances at Blair. "Well, we've both been busy."

"I know. I was just wondering if Blair would like to dance."

She stands, grateful. "I'd love to."

"Great. We'll catch up later?"

"Sure."

He watches as Nate takes Blair's hand and leads her to dance, his back against Chuck. Her eyes meet his from where her head rests on his shoulder.

"I didn't know you and Chuck could talk without World War Three breaking out," Nate observes.

She smiles weakly, still looking at Chuck Bass, at the boy who had broken her heart and still had it, after all this time.

Just a boy, even now.

"Surprises even me, Nate."


	2. Chapter 2

**So after some thought, I decided that it wouldn't be a oneshot. Funny, how things work out. But anyways, I hope you read this chapter, thought I don't think this is as good as the first one. I just need it to connect stuff. **

Chuck looks up from his work as his son knocks on the door.

"I'm going over to the Archibald's, dad," he explains, smiling. "I'm taking Audrey to the dance tonight."

He narrows his eyes. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Like what?"

"Flowers." Chuck stands up, and smirks. "Don't tell me you didn't buy Audrey flowers. Women like it."

"I never see _you_ get anyone flowers," Daniel says, grinning.

"True, but I don't really have someone like Audrey, do I?"

"I don't know what she likes," he admits, checking his watch. "And I really don't have time. . ."

"Try yellow roses," Chuck says, shrugging. His eyes flicker to the window, and he imagines Blair. "Her mother used to like them."

"Yellow roses, then, dad."

--

Daniel, Blair and Nate sit in the living room waiting for Audrey. Nate stares long and hard at the boy, who calmly examines his bouquet of flowers. Typical Bass, Blair thinks.

"I'm sorry I took so long," Audrey breathes, quickly walking down the stairs. She looks at what her date has for her, and when he kisses her on the cheek, she smiles. "They're beautiful."

"You like them? "

"I think it's sweet."

"Right. Have her back safe, all right?"Nate says, in a stern tone.

"Of course, Mr. Archibald."

"You know who I'll blame if she gets hurt."

Daniel smirks (like his father), and looks at Audrey. "Of course."

"Could we really trust her with a Bass?" Nate asks, after they leave, chuckling. "For all we know, they might not be even going to this dance."

"Relax, Nate, I think he really likes her."

He snorts. "He's a Bass. How do you know?"

She ignores the first part, and smiles to herself. "Because I can tell. Nate, The boy brought her flowers, for God's sake!"

"Is this because I don't get _you _flowers?" he asks, grinning.

--

Blair can't help but smiling pointedly at Nate when Audrey and Daniel return after midnight, with his arm around her waist protectively. Audrey blushes, seeing that her parents are both still awake, while her date, takes it nicely.

"He insisted on bringing me up," Audrey defends.

"Well, I wouldn't want to be assassinated by your father," he retorts.

"Oh, please," Blair says, waving it away. "Nate couldn't kill a turtle."

"I'm offended, Blair," Nate tells her, feigning hurt, and grinning. "Have some faith in me, will you?"

"No," she replies with a smile of her own.

_Ring. Ring._

"I'll get it," Nate says. He picks the phone up, and glances at Audrey. "It's for you."

"So, Daniel, I must say, the flowers add a nice touch," Blair tells the boy, motioning at the bouquet on the table.

"It was actually my father's idea, Mrs. Archibald," he replies, running his hand through his hair, and grinning. "He told me you used to like yellow roses, when I said I didn't know what Audrey liked."

"I did, actually," she says slowly, her brow furrowed.

"I'm just glad Audrey did too."

She looks away, tucking her hair behind her ear. It was. . .gratifying, to know that Chuck Bass still remembers the little things, even after more than two decades. Suddenly, she feels the ache of his absence, which is surprising, because not once can she remember missing him after her marriage to Nate.

But now, thinking about him and his eyes, she misses him more than ever.

**Please review if you want me to continue:)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much for the reviews! So it's really for you guys I'm updating, because I was unsure about the change from oneshot to story. Thanks again!**

**Disclaimer: Me owning Gossip Girl? Funny. **

Everyone on the Upper East side knows it's the time of the year again that the Archibalds take off across Europe, and return more beautiful than ever. And that can mean one only one other thing:

Shopping.

--

With the cold against her, Blair storms past the boutiques with countless of shopping bags in her hands. She'd bought new dresses for herself and Audrey, scarves for her boys, and everything else she deemed necessary to get.

Checking her mental checklist off, she's far too absorbed in her thoughts to notice a black stretch limo slowing down next to her.

"Care for a ride, Archibald?"

She stops instantly, her blood running cold.

"Chuck?" She furrows her brow. "What the hell are you doing?"

"This." He's fussing with something she can't see, and she strains to peek. Seconds later, a bunch of peonies are being held up by his hands. They're beautiful, really. Pink, with veins of deep red, tied together with a silk ribbon.

"Why?" she has to ask first, still looking into the peonies. She's trying very hard not to look at him, because she knows if she does, well, it'll be hard to look away.

"Because my son came home the other day, telling me that you seemed to have a soft spot for flowers."

"So you come and stalk me?"

"Stalk is such a harsh word. . ." Grinning, he steps out into the streets with the flowers still in his hands. "But here I am."

"Unfortunately," she mutters.

"Don't take it out on me just because Nathaniel doesn't get you flowers."

She stiffens. "Of course he does."

"Oh, really?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He's clearly enjoying himself, and so is she, though she'll never admit. "Then tell me about the last time."

"I'm not discussing my marriage with you," she says fiercely.

"Fine." He shrugs, smiling knowingly. She wants to slap it off of his (handsome) face.

She rolls her eyes, trying to keep a straight face. She still hates him. "So what do you want?"

"To give you these," he says calmly.

"Out of the blue?"

"Well, we talked at the dance last week."

"Once. It was a very short time."

"Well, I miss you." He smiles crookedly, and she crumbles inside. "Reason enough for you?"

"No," she says baldly. The corners of her lips turn upward.

He cocks his head in the direction of the limo, and smirks. "Aren't you going to get in?"

"What's it going to cost me? I know you, and I know there are strings attached."

"Have a drink with me," he tells her earnestly. "Or coffee, brunch, dinner. . .Whatever you like."

She hesitates.

"Just one. For old times' sake," he urges, using Nate's old line. "As friends."

Blair bravely looks up into his dark eyes, and finds herself nodding slowly.

"Great," he replies happily.

She grins teasingly. "Next week, Thursday. I'll order everything they have, and you pay without complaint."

"It's a small price to pay, then." He smiles at her, and for a moment, she forgets that she's supposed to hate him. "Should I pick you up?"

"No. Nate will bring me there."

A dark look crosses his eyes, and she tells herself she imagines it. He holds the door open for her, as she pushes her bags in, but makes sure there are some to put between them. Then he sits in and slams the door, throwing her a glance.

"Bring back any memories?" he asks lightly.

"Of what?" she asks sweetly. They grin at each other, their heads tilted sideways.

"Me."

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "Do you really think I need your limo to remember you?"

--

"So you're having a non-date type of date with Chuck?"

Serena raises her eyebrows expectantly, as Blair scowls.

"It's not a date, S. It's just. . ."

"Just what, then?"

She shrugs, sipping her drink. "Just Chuck," she lies. Thursday is all she can think about lately, and even if she knows she shouldn't be, she's looking forward to it. "We can be friends."

"Right. You and Chuck Bass? B, are you sure this will be a good idea?"

"No," she admits. "But I can't back out, and besides, I'm doing nothing wrong. Nate knows."

"And he's okay with it?"

She smiles. "Nate trusts me."

"Well, as long as everything's okay," Serena tells her, looking unsure. "Be careful."

"God, you sound like I'm flying to Afghanistan."

"You might as well."

"It's just Chuck," she repeats. Lie again. In fact, while face to face with Serena, it's _his_ eyes she's thinking about; his dark, smoldering eyes, and the way they look at her in such a different way. . .

"—B, snap out of it!"

"I'm listening," she says quickly, and wrinkles her nose. "No need to yell."

"Did you hear what I said?"

She grins. "Of course."

It's just a phase anyways, she thinks. She'll get tired of thinking about him so much, and then she'll get over it, just like she did before. It was nothing, it _is_ nothing, and it'll pass soon.

**Reviews, please?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's the next chapter, you guys!**

He's early for their "date", and as he waits at the Palace bar for her to arrive, he begins to think about how they ended up like this.

The last time he'd felt the soft touch of her lips, he thinks with a smile, was the day after he'd almost jumped off a roof and she came to see how he was. So he asked her to come to his father's will reading, and just like he wanted, she agreed, and smiled at him. It was irresistible.

Then he kissed her.

And he remembers being glad when she kissed back as he buried his hand in her soft, auburn hair. He'd wanted to tell her right there and then that he loved her, because he did, and he always had. But he stopped himself.

He shouldn't have.

"Sir, what will you have?"

"My usual scotch," he replies. "And. . .a cocktail."

The bartender nods, and goes off, leaving Chuck staring at the door in anticipation.

"Here you go, sir." The bartender places the drinks before him, and he swallows half of his.

She surprises him immensely by suddenly appearing, taking a sit next to him, her cheeks pink with a flush. Beautiful, he thinks.

"You're early," she observes.

"Of course I am," he scoffs. "And I ordered you a cocktail, like before."

"Actually, I prefer martinis now."

He waves his hand, as if to tell her to go ahead and order, like he didn't care. But he did; he hated not knowing her anymore. He hated not knowing what made her smile, or frown, or what to say when he wanted to see her laugh.

She isn't his, he reminds himself for the millionth time.

Never really was.

"So when you invited me for this, what did you think we'd talk about?" she asks, with eyebrows raised.

"I don't know," he admits. "Any ideas?"

"Audrey and Daniel."

He narrows his eyes, wondering if she'd planned to come only for that. "What about them?"

"What do you think about their. . .thing." She sips her drink. "Not exactly a relationship, is it?"

He leans back comfortably. "Daniel's a little rough on the edges, Blair, but he's a good kid. He just gets scared sometimes because people expect Basses to be bastards. They're not supposed to fall in love."

She tries to forget he said that. "Speaking of him, why is he named after Humphrey?"

"He is not."

"Well in any case," she says, grinning as he frowns. "He shares something with him."

"If you must know, he's named after my grandfather."

She shrugs. "Audrey's named after Audrey Hepburn—"

"Of course," he says, smirking.

"And Josiah is named after. . ." Blair furrows her brow. "Actually, Nate picked out that name."

"You let him?"he asked, somewhat pained.

"Why not?"

He cocks his head. "So how does Josiah look like? And since Audrey didn't' inherit the bitch gene, I assume he did too?"

"No, he didn't." She knows he's just saying it because he feels threatened. "Josiah is a Nate with my eyes, and girls worship him."

"A true Archibald," he jokes.

"Handsome and athletic," Blair confirms, laughing. But your son and you. . .well done. You're exactly alike."

Chuck smirks. "Well, he does have a certain. . .charm to him, doesn't he?"

She rolls her eyes. "His ego _obviously_ came from you."

"What ego?" he asks innocently.

Two hours feel like two minutes. He feels so much better by the end, like a load had been pushed off of his shoulders as he talked and looked at her.

And all night long, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, as hard as he'd tried. When she laughed, he smiled; she spoke, and he hung onto every word she said.

"It's getting late," she tells him. "Nate will be here any second to pick me up."

"I could bring you home."

She looks at him pointedly. "You know I won't let you. And it's unfair to Nate."

"Yes, I forgot. Your precious husband."

She sighs. "Chuck—"

"I get it," he says. "It's fine. I have an early day tomorrow anyways."

She seems to not know what to say next, and fiddles with her phone as he swirls his drink. The silence feels awkward and thick, and he is painfully aware of how slow time passes by.

By a miracle, she soon receives a text from Nate that says he's already outside.

"I should go," she says, lingering.

"Yeah." He shifts uncomfortable, and stands up to bade her goodbye. "We should do this again sometime."

"We should," she agrees earnestly, smiling. "Thank you, Chuck."

He nods, and leans forward to place a careful kiss on her cheek. His lips linger at her ear. "Sweet dreams, princess," he whispers, and pulls back.

She looks broken down. "Goodnight, Chuck."

"Say hello to Nathaniel for me."

**To be continued. . .with reviews!**

_Under the hardest shell, is a person who wants to be appreciated and loved._

_--Innerspace_


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much for your reviews! It's the only thing I really open my mail for, actually. Every one means a lot to me, so don't think it desn't matter. **T**his** **chapter is lighter than the others, so I'm not sure, really, how you guys will like it. Hope you do!**

The Humphreys decided to come to France with the Archibalds this year. Blair's happy to have her best friend with her, and her two kids, Celia and Daisy. But then there was Humphrey, she thinks. Thank goodness Nate talked to him most of the time.

"How did it go?" Serena asks, as they lie on their backs on the Archibald sailboat. The rest had gone snorkelling.

"How did what go?" Blair asks innocently.

"Your drink with Chuck!"

"Right. That." Blair turns the other way to hide a smile. "It was okay."

"Oh, come on, B. It's you and Chuck. . .There has to be something else."

"I'm happily married, thank you very much. Don't you remember being my bridesmaid?"

"And I know that," Serena says sympathetically. "But I'm just worried."

"Why?"

"Because he's obviously still in love with you."

"He never was."

"Only you think that."

"Because he isn't," Blair says firmly. "And he never was."

"You were," Serena points out.

"I thought I was," she says, and wonders if it's a lie. "But I was. . .excited by the idea of Chuck Bass. That's it."

"That's it?" Serena repeats incredulously.

Blair rolls eyes, picking up the camera from the table and stands. She waves at Nate, and the kids in the water, snapping their photos and grinning.

"Join us, Blair!" Nate calls out with a smile. "The water's not too cold."

Her phone receives a text, and she signals at them for a moment.

_Wish I was there with you, B._

_-C._

For a second, she thinks about replying. Serena watches her pointedly, and she decides to turn her phone off and join her family.

"Are you coming, S?" she asks triumphantly.

"I think I'll wait. Go ahead."

"Okay." She turns to the ledge. "Nathaniel Archibald, if you don't catch me, you're dead."

"Dad, watch out," Josiah teases.

She jumps off with her eyes closed, and for a second, her mind drifts to. . .the unthinkable person. But as soon as she feels the cold water on her skin, and arms winding around her, she pushes him off her thoughts. She opens her eyes to see Nate, as he holds her tightly.

"Glad you joined us," he says, with a smile. "Josiah and I were thinking of dragging you down."

"Hmm. . .Not a very good idea."

"Yeah, Audrey said that."

She looks into her husband's blue eyes and realizes that he deserves better from her. It's not as if she doesn't love him, or he doesn't love her. Blair smiles at him, playing with the curls of his hair as he whispers something into her ear that makes her giggle, in full view of the Humphreys and their children.

"Oh, watch out, guys. Your parents are turning the ocean into cheese," Dan laughs.

"Shut up, Humphrey."

"I think I just vomited internally," Audrey tells Celia.

"Me too," Josiah says, joining the girls.

* * *

"So Audrey, how are you and Daniel?" Nate asks lowly back at the Chateau. Everyone's in the living room.

"Dad!" she says quietly. "Not now."

"Why not?"

Harold picks up on the conversation. "Did I hear right? My granddaughter's dating Daniel _Bass_?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at Blair, who also receives a smirk from Serena.

"Yes, she is."

"If I remember correctly," Roman starts. "Your mother—"

"Is starving," Blair cuts off cheerfully. She claps her hands together and turns to Nate. "I say we should go out for tea."

"I agree," he adds helpfully. Blair sneaks a warning look at Harold and Roman, who are both smiling knowingly. "Anyone else?"

"Um, actually, tea sounds great—" But Dan is cut off by one of the maids.

"I'm sorry for interrupting. . .But there's a boy here. Monsieur Bass."

"Bass?" Blair and Audrey both say at the same time. Nate shoots them both a look.

Blair clears her throat and smoothes her dress faux-calmly. "Which one?"

"E' is looking for Mademoiselle Audrey and is waiting at the door."

"May I be excused?" Audrey asks her mom, pretending not to be eager.

"Did you invite him?" Nate asks.

"Of course not."

"Go ahead," Blair tells her, forcing a smile. She tells herself that it's stupid, thinking for one moment it could be _him._ It would've been a disaster, and yet, that doesn't stop her from feeling. . .disappointed. "I'll get us some drinks, in the meanwhile."

Serena follows her up. "And I'll help."

They head towards the wine cellar, and Blair grabs a bottle of champagne and searches for another drink. She stops pauses, hesitating for awhile at the bottle of fine scotches, but moves on after reminding herself that scotch isn't much her type, really. Never has been.

"You thought it was Chuck."

"No I didn't."

"I saw your face, B."

She shrugs, pretending to concentrate. "I was surprised Daniel would come out here in France. Chuck wouldn't come here. That's completely stupid."

"Uh huh." Serena joins her in searching for another bottle of wine. "So what do you think he came here for?"

"Audrey, duh."

"With Nate around. . .I'm impressed." Serena laughs, and picks up a bottle of rosé. "Here, I found a good one."

"Nate's taking it pretty well, actually. No blood or broken bones yet," she replies with a grin as they push the doors open. "But it's still pretty early on in their relationship."

"You think?"

She gives Serena a knowing smile. "Trust me, they've just begun."

--

"Charming!" Roman exclaims, welcoming Daniel into the room. He shakes hands with Nate, Harold and Dan, and smiles at everyone else.

"I'm sorry for intruding--" he begins.

"You're not," Harold says, winking. "Have a drink."

"Thank you. Oh, and you look beautiful, Mrs. Archibald, and Mrs. Humphrey. France becomes both of you."

Serena smiles and looks at her daughters, who both look glad at the new arrival. Josiah seems relieved not to be the only boy anymore, and Audrey, well, she's blushing, but happy. Blair leans back into Nate's arms, watching her daughter with Daniel Bass. She really is happy for her, that Daniel had realized how he felt for her without too much running away.

Really, she is.

"I missed you," Daniel whispers into her ear. Blair pretends not to hear it.

"Me too."

"So tell us, Daniel," Serena begins. "Your dad's okay with you flying to France?"

"Of course. He told me to take the Bass plane and—I almost forgot. . ." He digs into his pockets. "He told me to give this to Mrs. Archibald, for, you know, coming on such short notice."

She takes it under seemingly everyone's scrutinizing eyes, refusing to open it until she's alone.

"And I brought a couple of bottle of scotch, my father's favorite. Your maids brought them down to the cellar, I think."

"Tell him thank you for us, Daniel," Harold tells him. "And you're welcome to spend the night here, of course."

"Just not with Audrey." Nate grins as they all laugh. Blair tries to join in, but all she can think about is the box in her hand that she's itching to open.

* * *

It looks like it might just be a box of chocolates. But it isn't. It's the Erikson Beamon necklace she'd returned to him all those years ago, when she'd grown tired of always being taken for granted. He'd kept it.

She runs her fingers all over it, the smooth cold metal and the diamonds. Suddenly, she spots a new addition, an engraving at the back of one of its pieces, and the back of her throat starts to hurt. Warm tears cloud over her eyes.

_Love, Chuck._

He probably didn't think she'd find it.

**Please review:)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys! Well, you must've noticed that I replaced the chapters' names. I'm not good at those, not even at titles or summaries, so I just took those out. BTW, I think it's really unfair how they space the remaining Gossip Girl episodes out. Did you hear about the spolier that Nate and Blair are going to get closer? i think that might be fun to watch.**

_

* * *

_

Who knows how long I've loved you,  
You know I love you still.  
Will I wait a lonely lifetime?  
If you want me to I will.

_-The Beatles_

* * *

He can count in one hand all the times he's been scared in his life.

He was scared when he'd just been starting with Blair, for all the things he'd felt and could not explain. He was scared when his father died, and left him the company. He was scared when Daniel had been born, fearing that he would not be a good father. And now, _now_ he's scared because those feelings for her he couldn't explain should've gone away years and years ago.

Bu they haven't.

Nothing could explain them, and he's tried everything to forget her. Every trick in the book except marriage, of course. But ever since his son started dating her daughter, he thinks. . .he thinks that he doesn't want to. Not anymore. And he's not an idiot; he damn well knows she's Blair _Archibald_. She's married, and in love, with two beautiful kids. He has nothing to offer her, not like Nathaniel.

And despite being scared, he knows seeing her is the only way to scratch the itch.

* * *

It's not that he enjoys taunting her, really. That's not the reason why he came.

"I was hoping Dorota was delusional when she told me you came," Blair tells him coolly as she arranges her flowers in a vase. Hydrangeas, he notes.

"I feel so welcome," he replies with a light smirk. If he isn't imagining things, he thinks that she looks even more beautiful than last time, which is difficult to, seeing as she always is.

"So why are you here? Nate's at work, and my children are already in school."

"What are you suggesting?" he asks, eyebrows raised. She rolls her eyes and fusses over her flowers more."Well, I heard you were back."

"So you come running here? I'm seriously rethinking you stalking me."

He smirks. "You think so badly of me, Archibald. . .I'm hurt."

"I thought you were incapable of human emotion," she scoffs. "At least your son isn't."

"It was sweet, what he did for your daughter, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was." She pauses. "But also terrible risky. You should've seen the look on Nate's face."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Can we not discuss Nathaniel now?"

"Why?" She raises an eyebrow, her lips curved. "Jealous?"

"Never."

"Good."

She looks at a petal, as he watches, and the hand holding a single stalk falls limp at her side. The moment is surprisingly silent, both having nothing much to say. Chuck thinks it's sad, how they're reduced to fumbling for things to talk about and avoiding each other's eyes.

"What were you thinking, sending me that necklace?"she asks coldly, suddenly.

He stiffens."I apologize for thinking it would be a nice gesture."

"My whole family—and the Humphreys—saw it," she hissed. "And I told you before, I don't want it. Not ever, Chuck. I told you I was done, and we could've been friends, but that's it."

It's like her words are piercing through his heart, and even then, he can't show it. Chuck steels himself against showing emotion, and his eyes flicker to the flowers, anywhere but at her. "You don't mean that."

"I do."

"No, you don't." He looks up and pulls a smirk on his face. "Throw it. Burn it, if you will."

She narrows his eyes, as he draws nearer. "You don't think I can do it."

"Yes, I don't."

"Is that a challenge?"

He shrugs and draws closer, and lowers his voice. "I'm just saying I know you can't."

"Fine," she snaps. Why is she being so cold to him? "Dorota! Light the fireplace for me!"

"Yes Ms. Blair."

She storms up the stairs to her bedroom, and she unlocks a safe and pulls out the necklace from the box. He thinks it's going to be quite a morning, and walks through the master bedroom. It was an elegant room, with a big bed and a view of Manhattan from the windows. An image of Nate and Blair resurfaces in his mind painfully.

"Why did you follow?" she asks.

"So this is where it happens, huh?" he asks, a bitter barb to his smooth voice. There are pictures of their perfect family on the tables. "Not too bad."

He smirks as she rolls her eyes.

* * *

She stands before the fireplace, and he's behind her, watching. Chuck pulls on a calm face, assuring himself that she can't, and she won't do it. Blair's a romantic, and she can't. The flames dance dangerously in her eyes.

"I'm waiting, darling," he says lazily.

She prepares, holding up mechanically. It dangles precariously in her fingers, and he stops breathing to see if she'll dare to do it. Perhaps it was a horrible idea. It's not like he'd kept it all those years for nothing, and it just might disappear in a second.

"Anytime now."

"I'm ready." She bites her lips and lets it slip from her grasp and into the waiting fire that swallows it with a short burst. The flames flicker over it, and they both can see what's left of it dying slowly on the wood. He feels her eyes turn to him, but he doesn't move, and he doesn't speak.

He's staring at it quietly, stunned that she actually let it go.

The necklace is him, he thinks. He means nothing to her anymore.

"I honestly didn't think you would," he says quietly. "I guess I was wrong."

"It's not the first time," she responds, surprising him with her soft tone. And when he turns to figure out why, he can see the understanding in her eyes. "Chuck, you shouldn't have come. Even if Nate and the children aren't here now. . .you shouldn't have."

"I know."

"Then why did you?"

"I didn't think," he admits. "I'm sorry."

A heavy silence fills the air.

She nods, lips pursed, and sighs, as if she knows she'll regret what she'll be doing. "Why don't I make it up to you?"

He smirks. "Upstairs? All I need is five minutes."

"No. Um. . .dinner. Maybe tomorrow?" she asks with a smile.

"Is this a pity invitation?"

She frowns impatiently, tugging at her bouquet. It makes him smile, how much of a perfectionist she still is. "Take it or leave it, Bass."

"I'll clear my schedule," he says with a grin. Maybe this is why he came. "Text me where?"

She bites her lip nervously, looking away.

"What?"

"When I bought a new phone years ago, I never put your number in." He can feel his heart sinking in the pit of his stomach again, only deeper. "Why don't _you_ text me?"

"Do you still have the same number?"

"Yes. You have it?" she asks curiously. "Until now?"

He nods, feeling his phone in his pocket; cold, and smooth. It's pathetic that he still has it, and had kept it just to see her name on his contact list from time to time. Sometimes, he would pause and scroll over her name, and key in a text he would never send, or let his finger hover over the "call" button. He just wanted to feel like she wasn't completely gone from her life, which she was, and is.

* * *

"Got a date tonight?" Daniel asks with the Bass smirk.

"No, not really," Chuck checks himself in the mirror, fixing his bowtie and his hair. He can't wait to see her. "You? I imagine you and Audrey have some plans?"

"Don't worry, dad. Once you head out, we'll kick in."

"Oh, okay." He chuckles and places a hand on his son's shoulder with a wink. "Just so you know, there's some protection in my drawer and do not use my couch."

"Dad, I'm not eight. It's not something I'm comfortable discussing."

The elevator bell rings, and Audrey walks in, a vision of her mother. Chuck watches Daniel kiss her softly on the lips.

"Good evening, Mr. Bass." She smiles. "Hope it's okay I came tonight."

"You're always welcome here. And by the way, great job turning my son into a gentleman."

"I feel offended," Daniel says, amused. He leans down to whisper into her ear. "He's just referring to this girl he met at our age."

Chuck wonders if Blair's ever told her about what they used to be.

"Really? Well, what happened to her, Mr. Bass?"

He shrugs. "I lost her."

"Did you love her?"

He nods, unable to say it. But he pulls another smirk on his face as Daniel explains to Audrey that he's never told her the girl's name.

"Daniel, remember what I said. . ."

"Dad! Just. . .go and have fun already!" He shakes his head at Audrey's wondering eyes.

"Well," Chuck responds with a shrug. "Proud of you, Daniel. You're growing up."

"We don't have to do this." Daniel smiles shyly as Chuck heads out. "I already know it."

"Good."

* * *

He's learned from Bart's mistakes, and he hopes to fix some of his own pretty soon.

The moment the door of the restaurant opens, he begins to search for her. And he smiles when he finds her, and clears his throat. Blair isn't facing his way, of course, and it's his turn to surprise her. Chuck suppresses the urge to run to her.

Then he sees a familiar figure next to her, and he stops.

**Reviews, please? Oh, and please tell me what you think about how the ending should go. I know most people are rooting for a happy ending, but we all know most things don't happen like that.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I really mean it when I say each and every one counts a lot in helping me write the next chapter. Most of you want a happy ending for CB, so I'll see. . .**

_

* * *

_

"Nathaniel," he greets his friend grimly, forcing a smile. He glances at Blair pointedly. "I didn't know you were coming."

Nate grins. "Honestly, neither did I."

"Really?" he cocked an eyebrow and took his seat. "And the Mrs. Archibald looks lovely this evening."

Her lips curve irresistibly. "As always."

"So hey, how've you been?" Nate asks when they take their seats. "It's been a long time since we last got together like this."

"Well, you know, with the crises and all that, it's pretty busy. But Bass Industries is doing better than I expected and we should wear this storm out."

"That's great. It's a good thing people always run into the law for me then," Nate replies with a smile.

"Speaking of running, guess who I bumped into a few moments ago?" he asks with a smirk. "Audrey."

"Is she spending the night?" Blair asks with a frown.

"You worried?"

"No."

He cocks an eyebrow and calls the waiter to order his dinner because apparently, Nate and Blair had ordered earlier before he came. "And your finest scotch."

Blair rolls her eyes. "Why don't you drink something else?"

"I like scotch."

"We don't have to argue before the food comes, do we?" Nate asks lightly.

"We could. . ." Chuck smirks thoughtfully. "But then what fun is there in that?"

He looks at her from the corner of his eye again, and he's pretty sure she's trying to ignore his doing so. Each time Nate's and Blair's hands slip under the table, he imagines them entwined, and it makes him sick. Thank God his scotch arrives soon. He's going to need it.

"Chuck's right, Blair," he hears Nate say in an undertone. "You look great."

And he's going to need a hell of a lot of it.

Chuck clears his throat. "So Nathaniel, what do you really think about Daniel and Audrey dating? Blair told me you weren't so. . .pleased."

"It's not him that I have a problem with, actually. It's just. . .well, he's a Bass."

He cocks an eyebrow at Blair, who hides behind sipping her drink.

"Audrey's smart enough," she tells them, smiling. "Imagine if you had twins and she'd had to choose between _two_ of them."

Chuck smiles, watching the light in her eyes. "She wouldn't stand a chance."

"Need I remind you she's part Waldorf too?"

"Maybe we should spy on them."

Nate laughs. "Never underestimate Waldorf women. You should've seen the look on her face when she got a B plus on her paper. Then when Josiah lost her credit card for a few days. . ."

"I'm sure I wouldn't have wanted to be him," Chuck finishes with a grin. "Poor guy."

"Hey, if it weren't for us both of your lives would be so much less interesting," she scolds teasingly.

"True," Chuck agrees. "And I'd probably be dead."

Nate furrows his brow and turns to Blair. "What happened?"

"I almost jumped off the roof. After my father died," he explained, grimacing a little. He never really much likes talking about it. "She stopped me. And by the way, I was drunk."

"And high," she adds. "On drugs and sex."

He smirks, because she remembers. "I never did thank you for that."

"Would you really have jumped, though?" Nate asks him.

Chuck drinks his scotch thoughtfully and tries to replay the scene. He was drunk, and singing and teetering off the edge, watching the lights below curiously. Then he'd heard a voice, Jack's, and then hers. And it was her voice that had stopped him, because he could've jumped before she came. But he couldn't do it with her watching.

"Maybe."

He steals another look at her. This time, she looks uncomfortable, and yet, he thinks, she hides it so well. The only thing that shows it is her eyes. For a moment there, she meets his, and it's just for a short time, until she looks away consciously. But it's enough to seem like a year for him.

He doesn't seem to have much of an appetite for Foei Gras, even if it _is_ his favorite. Nate and Blair seems happy with their dinner, chattering away so he feels left out sometimes. They look so happy and contented that it makes him regret the last few years before they got married all over again.

Just like he does every night.

_. Ring._

Nate and Chuck dig into their pockets to see if it's theirs, as Blair frowns and looks into her purse.

"It's mine," Nate announces. He presses his phone against his ear, and touches Blair's arm lightly before walking into the corner of the room.

"Looks like it's just you and me," he tells her lazily, to hide the fact that his heart is beating faster and faster. He blames her for always looking so fucking beautiful.

She rolls her eyes. "Doesn't interest me at all."

"You know what we can do in less than five minutes?" he asks, cocking his head.

She cracks a smile. "You're disgusting."

"Never stopped you before."

"I was young and stupid, Chuck."

He gives her a ghost of a smile and drums his fingers on the table quietly, thinking of something, _anything_ to say. Nate is still talking on his phone, a little furiously, making motions with his hands.

"Why'd you bring him?' he whispers. His eyes bravely look into hers.

"We came from a PTA meeting."

She's forgotten he can tell when she lies. "Is that really it, Blair?"

"Of course."

"Or is it because you don't trust me?"

"I don't trust you, but no, that's not it. I told you, we came from a meeting."

"You're lying."

"I—"

"That was my partner," Nate tells them both, coming back to the table. Chuck can see the relief on Blair's face, and looks away, his jaw tight. "He says he wants us to have a rundown of all the evidence and papers for out trial next week." He smiles apologetically. "I have to go."

"_Now_?" Blair demands. "Can't he do it by himself?"

Nate shook his head. "I'm sorry. But it's either today, or on Friday, sweetheart."

Blair pouts(Chuck keeps his smile to himself). "Fine. As long as Friday is clear."

"What's so important about Friday?" Chuck muses, nursing his drink carefully.

"It's our anniversary, " she tells him, a little cheerily.

He regrets asking in the first place.

"Twenty one years," Nate adds.

"That's. . .that's great," he replies sullenly. "Congratulations."

Nate leans over Blair with teasing lips, and he instinctively reaches out for his scotch again. He can't help but overhear their whispered conversation, though he wishes he didn't.

"Promise you'll be back as early as you can?"

"I promise."

"Then you have my permission, Nate Archibald," she says with a coy grin.

He kisses her quickly. "I love you," he tells her and straightens up. "Another time, Chuck?"

"For sure." He can't believe how easily those words were said.

"Could you do me a favour and make sure she gets home safely? New York isn't that safe anymore, especially late at nights."

"Don't worry, Nathaniel."

So when Nate leaves, she decides to order some dessert, a classic chocolate cake she's always adored and had room for. It's amusing to see her eyes light up when the waiter brings it over, and how she tries to eat in small bites because he's there. Prim and proper, as always, he thinks reminiscently.

"You don't have to eat like that, you know," he tells her softly. "It's just me, anyways. I've seen you in worse."

She scoffs and smiles. "You're paying this you know."

"Gladly."But he takes comfort in the fact that she's made her bites bigger; he doesn't want her to feel like she needs to be perfect around him. "You have something on your chin—"

He leans forward and pulls his hand out from his pocket to flick it off her chin, but she stops him.

"It's okay, I got it."

"Okay." The disappointment is clear as crystal in his tone.

"You don't have to bring me home," she says firmly. "Really. I'm an adult now."

"I wouldn't want your husband blaming me if you end up in some dark alley," he says with a smile. He knows perfectly that she's capable of taking care of herself, and yet, he just wants a little more time with her. "It's one ride, Blair. No harm can be done."

"That's what you think," she mutters.

"What?"

"Nothing.

"Let me take you home, all right? The limo's waiting anyways."

She hesitates. "Just call me a cab."

"Blair—"

"You've paid for dinner, Chuck, and I can take myself home." He knows when to give up when it comes to her.

"Fine. I'll call you a cab."

He makes a call on his cell for his driver to hail a cab, watching her absentmindedly as they wait awkwardly. It comes sooner than he would've chosen.

"So goodnight, Chuck." She looks up at him; he's surprised that she's smiling. "Despite your presence, I had a good night."

"So did I."

**TBC**

The greatest pain that comes from love is loving someone you can never have.  
-Anonymous

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: If I owned Gossip Girl, the next episode would come sooner than March.**

**

* * *

**

_She said, "When the day comes, look into my eyes."_

_-Augustana_

* * *

Names and titles scroll through the massive screen of the theatre as Daniel and Audrey sit comfortably in the audience. He's rented the entire theatre so they could watch her favorite movie, _Titanic_, without interruption, completely.

At least, that's what they thought.

"Why the hell are we here again?" Chuck grumbles. He shifts in his chair and grimaces at the movie.

"Because you suggested spying on them lightly last night, and Nate took it seriously," she snaps.

He smirks. "Ah, yes. And then I paid a thousand dollars just for us to get in."

"I blame you."

Tonight, she's purposely worn her old cologne to tease him, to see if he'd still remember the scent of it. And judging by the look on his face when they'd met before coming in, he did. It was revenge for making him near nauseous and reminiscent just by his being near her, and because he's wearing his ridiculous scarf again.

"_Titanic_?" Chuck questions. "Audrey has your absurd taste in movies."

"It's romantic," she snaps in a hushed voice.

"If you want to call it that," he says, shrugging. "But it's a movie about a poor guy and a rich girl, Blair. If she wanted to see a story like that in real life, all she had to do was asks for Serena and Humphrey's."

Blair smiles. "Except they're happy, and in this movie, Jack dies for her."

"Why do women like it when men die for them? It's completely unfair and morbid."

"Because it shows the men actually have a good side sometimes."

"Are you talking about Nathaniel?"

"No," she says quickly. "Nate's always been good to me. A perfect gentleman, unlike you."

"Except that brief time he slept and was in love with your best friend?"he asks calmly.

She scowls. "I didn't need to be reminded."

"Well, I'd never thought Daniel would do this. People do the strangest things sometimes."

"He's exceeded expectations for sure. Compared to the last generations," she adds pointedly. "Much better."

"I agree," he says with a smile.

Daniel reaches out and wraps an arm around Audrey's small shoulders, and slowly, she leans onto his shoulder. Blair can almost imagine the smile on her daughter's face; it makes all the trouble and sitting next to Chuck worth it, she tells herself. But she's worried for her, because if it's one thing she's learned, it's that handling a Bass is delicate work.

She steals a look at his face; he's trying to remain detached, she can tell. But it's clearly not working, for both of them. It feels weird to look at him; she feels like she's doing something wrong somehow.

This isn't going as well as she thought it would.

Two hours later, it's obvious even from behind that Daniel had already fallen asleep in his seat. His head lolls to the side, and he looks up sharply to see that the movie is still playing.

"I forgot how long this movie is," Blair grumbles.

"Twenty one years is longer," he mutters. He looks intently on the screen to give the impression of being distracted by it.

She turns to see his face in surprise. "It's longer than you and I would've lasted."

"You thought about marrying me?" he asks with a smirk. "I'm flattered."

"Of course not," she huffs. "Because the day you say 'I do' is the day Dorota finds a boyfriend."

"I can get married."

"No, you can't."

"If I wanted to, I could."

"You aren't married now, are you?"

He shrugs and looks away stiffly. "I said if I wanted to. And besides, maybe I haven't found the right person."

"A woman who willingly puts up with two Basses and adultery? She doesn't exist," she tells him with a slight smile.

He chuckles. "What if I tell you she does?"

Blair feels her cheeks burn up, and then scolds herself for jumping into conclusions. Thankfully, the dark hides her face. "I wouldn't believe you."

"It doesn't matter what you think. She exists."

"Does she know?" she asks in a smaller voice than she would've liked. He cocks his head to look at her for a moment, and turns away.

"I don't know. Am I forgettable?"he asks teasingly.

"Well, she'd probably never forgotten about your damn scarf," she replies with a small laugh, fingering it. "Or your egotistical catchphrase."

"True."

A few cries and crises later, Daniel kisses Audrey as the screen shows a frantic Leo DiCaprio trying to break free from his chains. And it seems like Audrey's forgotten all about the movie.

"Where are they going?" she asks Chuck in a frantic whisper. No response. "Chuck?"

He's asleep too, apparently, and she watches him before shaking him awake.

"What? Is it done?"

"No, our children are getting up and going somewhere." They're kissing their way towards the bathroom door.

"So? Audrey's not a virgin, is she?"

"She's been waiting," Blair admits. "But shouldn't we do something?"

"Like what? We'll get caught."

"So I'm going to be telling Nate that your son pulled our daughter into the bathroom," she says uncertainly. "Daniel better beware."

"So don' tell him. What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

"I don't like lying to him."

He scoffs. "It's not really lying, you know."

"Counts as dishonesty."

He pulls his phone out and texts for the driver to come. "We shouldn't be here when they get out."

"I still can't believe they choose the bathroom." She knows Audrey; she knows she wouldn't get herself into any compromising situations. But she thought the same, and look where she is: in an empty theatre with Chuck Bass. She makes a mental note to talk to Audrey.

"Would you have preferred a limo?" he asks with a cocked eyebrow. She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes at him, and notices his rumpled hair and suit.

"Get over it, Bass."

"I can still hear your purring into my ear. . ."

She steps on his foot with her six-inched heels, a satisfied smirk on her lips as he curses under his breath.

"Remind me to always where heels around you."

* * *

The driver comes in five minutes and she and Chuck sneak out before they're seen. Relieved, she slides onto the plush leather seat as he shuts the door behind him. They don't speak for a long time,; the only sound they hear is the road beneath them, and the night has that feeling of closure lingering in the air.

"Do you. . .Do you have time?" he asks quietly, out of nowhere.

"For what?"

"There's this. . .place I want to take you to." He frowns and looks out the window. "You don't have to be home early, do you?"

She scoffs. "I'm not sixteen anymore, Chuck."

"I just thought Nate would be waiting, that's all."

She shakes her head. "He's working late again tonight."

Even she can hear the smile in his voice. "You don't mind, then?"

Blair weighs the options quickly; how much could it hurt? She's already given him her night, anyways.

"It won't take too long?"

"I don't think so."

Surprisingly, Chuck opens a bottle of wine and pours himself a glass, offering her one.

"No thanks."

He shrugs and drinks his glass, then pours another one. Not that she cares.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?"

"You know what a surprise is do you? You're not supposed to know now."

"Fine," she says with a pout. He leads her up some dark narrow stairs, and when they reach the end, he uses a key to unlock some sort of gate. The place seems familiar somehow, and yet, she can't put her finger on it.

"Here we are. I had to pull a couple of strings for them to consider me borrowing the place, but it should be worth it. The building's been closed for a couple of years."

She looks around the rooftop curiously, and suddenly it hits her. "This is where I had my seventeenth birthday party."

He smiles. "You remember."

"I don't forget things."

Blair walks near the edge and eyes the lights around her; this was where he first confessed of his feelings. It felt odd to be there, but still slightly comforting. So their relationship and the building both didn't survive; funny.

"I told you I liked you here."

"No, I forced it out of you," she corrects him with a smile.

"It's the same thing," he dismisses with a wave of his hand.

The lights and cars hold her attention, and she watches them with a smile. She wonders if the people below are even conscious that there are others watching them. And she thinks about all the times she was one of those who didn't know someone was watching.

"Blair?"

"Hmm?" she responds absent-mindedly.

"I can't. . .do this, anymore."

"Do what?" The winds feels cold, and yet, she doesn't mind. She sees a father with two little kids jumping around him. It involuntarily twists her lips into a smile.

"This game."

"Okay."

"I love you," he finally says.

And suddenly the lights don't seem so interesting.

**Well...? Tell me what you think.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm sorry this comes so late! Last week were exams for us, and I'm just relieved it's over. Thanks for the reviews, guys! I read my email like an excited little girl, which considering I'm 14, is not that far of a stretch. Anyways, please review again. And as you can tell, I'm in love with the band Augustana. This quote is from their song, Boston. It's a hertbreaking song.**

* * *

_You don't know me You don't even care,  
She said  
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains. . ._

_-Augustana_

_

* * *

__I love you._

And he says it so softly, and solemnly, that she would never have believed him if she hadn't seen his lips moving.

She thinks it's all a dream for sure. He doesn't love her. He doesn't mean those three words at all. He's just. . .a little out of his mind because of the drinking, that's all.

If she'd still been Blair Waldorf, she probably would've kissed him and told him those three words again. She would've believed him fully, and not be standing there stiffly with her mind unable to concentrate. But the fact is, she isn't Blair Waldorf anymore. She's a mother now, and a wife; an Archibald. And suddenly, she wishes she hadn't agreed to this, or come at all tonight. Maybe later she'd allow herself to cry, but not now. Not in front of him.

"Blair," he says. He's clearly hurt by the lack of response.

"You're a little drunk, and you don't know what you're sayi—"

"I do."

"Then you don't mean it."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't mean it, it's okay. Just. . .take it back, Chuck. I'll believe you if you take it back."

"But then I'd be lying. Blair, I love you," he says softly, almost a whisper, like it hurts him to utter those three, damn words.

Blood pounding through her veins, Blair dares to look into his eyes and frowns when she sees nothing but sincerity. Why did Chuck Bass choose to be sincere now?

"I thought you'd wanted me to say it." It's difficult to ignore the disappointment in his tone.

"Twenty one years ago," she fumes quietly. Her voice is raised now, and he looks frustrated too. "Not now."

"Why not?"

"I have a husband! I have two, beautiful children, Chuck," she tells him in a suppressed voice full of emotion, anger. "I don't need you."

"I have a son, too, in case you haven't noticed," he says coldly. " You're not the only one who has something to lose."

"And you're telling me you're willing to drop everything, ask me to leave my family, and be what Nate is?"

"And what is he?" he demands.

"A man who loves his family," she spits. "A faithful husband."

He stares at her, for what seems like such a long time that it makes her eyes water. She shifts to look at the lights once again, although they seem like blurs now, and blinks repeatedly.

"Yes."

His answer shocks her. But she reminds himself that keeping his word isn't one of his strong points.

"Like hell you are. When was the last time you had a real relationship?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but says nothing. "That's unfair."

"No, it's not. You've never been in a real relationship, Chuck. Maybe that one week before you left me waiting in Tuscany, but that doesn't even count anymore. And the one we were in after that—whatever it was? Nothing too."

"I'm sorry," he mutters, gritting his teeth. "I told you again and again--"

"After you insulted me by calling me wife?"

"Yes. And after you got back together with your dear Nathaniel, you wouldn't even talk to me!"

"It was your fault," she insists. "I was there for you, and you pushed me away! I'm human too, you know."

"But I was sorry."

"And that's supposed to make everything better."

"How many chances did you give Nate again?" he throws back at her.

She waves that off. "It's different."

"Enlighten me."

"Nate didn't push me away again, did he? He didn't leave me while I was waiting for him. He didn't ruin my life and told Gossip Girl everything that happened between us!"

"He slept with your best friend and didn't even want you."

"That's it. And I forgave him, because I love him."

He pauses at the words, and she knows he's wondering if he should even ask. But the truth is, she wouldn't even know how to answer him; truth, or lie? A sickening feeling creeps up on her, and she hates it, because she knows she's doing the right thing. It's not like she can forgive him, and kiss and make up twenty one years of silent glares and ignored faces. It's not like she can let go of her life so easily.

"It's late," she says wearily.

"I know."

"And it's freezing up here."

He glowers and takes his scarf off, throwing it at her. "Put it on. I'll take you home."

She thinks it would've been better if he'd just leave her alone. At least that would've made her feel better about saying those things to him, because she knows how hard it is when someone you love screams that you don't, when they tell you they don't want you. He doesn't love her, she remembers, though.

Right.

Their second car ride of the evening is worse than the first, by far. He doesn't speak at all, only pressing his fist against his mouth and staring at the window. She, with his scarf around her neck, sits as far as the limo can allow, only stealing glances when she can't resist. The thick awkwardness of the air feels so heavy it makes her want to say something, anything. But this is a game now too, and this time, she's not letting him win again. This time, she won't love him.

_Blair, I love you._

Fuck it. He doesn't.

_I love you._

Think of Nate, she tells herself. Think of Nate and Josiah and Audrey. . .Where could she be, by the way? She hopes she's safe, whatever she might be doing.

Once or twice, her eyes fill with tears. She remembers those times when she'd loved Chuck so much it broke her heart every time he shoved her off, or drank himself to death. She remembers her pillow being wet so many times when she'd think about him, especially when he was in Bangkok. She'd missed him so badly.

"We're here." His voice sounds so hollow, and empty.

Thank God. She opens the door and steps out, but not before hesitating. She just can't help it.

"I'm sorry. This would've mattered to me before."

He sends her a fleeting glance. "What changed?"

"Me."

He nods quietly, and she shuts the door before she wants to, into the empty street while watching him drive away. So it ends, she thinks to herself, before it even really started, faster than she could believe.

It's been an awful night.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm trying to finish this quickly, because in April I'll be going to camp in China for two months, and it'll be almost impossible to update. And there's been something wrong with the log in thing lately. . .**

Blair sighs in content.

"B, everything looks perfect," Serena exclaims in wonder. Blair smiles gratefully.

"I know."

"Oh. . .I can't believe it. Twenty one years. . ."

"We're older than we look," Blair says teasingly. "Where's Humphrey? Isn't he coming to help celebrate me and Nate?"

"He can't come. He's finishing this new novel about. . ." Serena wrinkled her nose. "I'm not really sure. Anywways, the kids are with yours."

Blair rolls her eyes. "The pains of marrying a writer."

"You married Nate!"

"So?"

"He broods a lot."

"At least he doesn't chatter endlessly."

" If you'd married Chuck, it would be dirty jokes all the time," Serena says lightly, with a laugh.

Blair's face darkened as Serena mentioned his name. The first thing she did when she got home that night was dump his scarf under her bed. Then she climbed on her bed and cried her eyes out before Nate got home and she pretended to be asleep underneath the pillows. She just couldn't forget the look in his eyes, the same one he'd given her after she'd thrown his flowers back in the elevator years ago. It was haunting her.

"B, what?"

"Nothing. It's just weird, what you said."

"I guess. We are dealing with Chuck Bass. "

Suddenly, she sees him, his arm around another woman. Probably some model, she thinks. He glances back for a second, meeting her eyes, and then looks back, disgusted. Her heart gives a pang as she tries to digest it all.

"What was that?" she hears Serena say.

"What was what?" she answers absent-mindedly. She'd been stupid to think Chuck actually loved her, for a second, because he's here now and he has a date.

"That look. You and Chuck."

"How should I know, S? I didn't see any look."

"You guys are fighting?" Blair should've known Serena would figure it all out. "After being friends for like two seconds?"

"S, it's complicated."

Serena drags Blair into the corner of the room, pulling at her elbow.

"What happened?" she whispers.

Blair tries to make her voice sound cold. "He told me he loved me."

"That's good!"

"No, it's not," she fumes, her voice shaky. "I can't. . .I can't go back to that anymore. I can't want to leave my family for him."

Serena's face twists in understanding, and even if she hates being pitied, for once, she ignores it. Blair blinks the tears away—she can't break down here—and straightens up. It's her anniversary, with the man she loves, and everyone expects a smile from her.

"Blair," Nate whispers, coming out of nowhere. He wounds his hand around hers and leads her to the center of the room.

"You look handsome, Archibald."

"You don't look so bad yourself."

She smiles, but over Nate's shoulder, he sees Chuck with his date. Her smiles turns even more smug, as Nate dips in to kiss her. When she opens her eyes, Chuck's gone.

"Do you want your present now?"

"Maybe later?"

"Okay. By the way, I happened to hear Audrey crying the other night."

Blair tries to look surprised. She remembers their talk yesterday; Audrey had assured her nothing happened. Apparently, they'd gotten into a fight when she told Daniel she wanted to wait.

_He said he could just find any other person anyways._

"I think it has something to do with Daniel."

Nate frowns. "Bass, right? I knew he wasn't good for her. He's here, though, I saw him drinking at the bar. . ."

"Nate, today's special. You can punch him out tomorrow." Blair smiles up at him, feeling strangely empty.

"I guess you're right—"

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to give a toast."

Nate and Blair look around and discover Serena grinning and holding up her glass of wine.

"Nate and Blair Archibald have been my friends ever since we were born. Blair had already planned to marry him before she could even walk, and wrote 'Mrs. Archibald' when she learned to write everywhere she could. They married after college, and I had the privilege to be maid of honor to such a wonderful couple. Years later, they still stand as a symbol of love. To Nate and B—"

"Actually, I'd like to add something," Chuck interrupted. Blair recognized the troublemaking look on his face. "I'd like to say. . ."

He met her eyes with a smirk. She silently begged him not to ruin them, all of them and her families.

"I'd like to say that theirs really is what they call true love." Chuck raised his glass with a sad smile. "To the happy couple."

Everyone starts to clap warmly, and Nate motions for the musicians to play a slow tune. All Blair can think about is how relieved she is Chuck didn't be himself, for once.

"Shall we dance?" Nate asks.

"Well, since you asked. . .yes."

Nate places one hand on her lower back, the other holds hers tightly. She smiles and slides her left behind his neck, stroking it. Ignoring Chuck behind Nate, she leans in closer and tries block him out. Soon, they aren't the only couple dancing, and at the corner of her eye, she sees Audrey dancing with another guy, only her smile is tight, and the warmth doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"May I take over?" she hears Daniel ask the guy.

"Well, --"

"I assure you, it's only for awhile."

Daniel smirks when he becomes her partner, but she scowls and tilts her head away.

"Thought you could find some other slut, Bass."

"I lied."

"When this song is finished, I want you to let go."

"What if I don't?"

"Then I'll go."

He turns serious. "The other day was really it?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure?"

She hesitates. "I want to be."

He nods, and looks down. "I'll go."

"Good."

He kisses her cheek softly, and Blair can see her stiffen, steeling herself.

"Chuck, hey," Nate says against her. She wants to scream not now, but she bites her lip and delays greeting him. She can feel the burn of his eyes already.

"Nathaniel, my man. I'd introduce you to my date, but she's chatting with someone else. Congratulations, by the way."

Nate stops dancing, and she knows it's time to recognize his presence. Blair turns around with a ready, sweet smile, conscious of every muscle tightening up in her face.

"Thank you for the toast, Chuck."

"No problem. Your husband wouldn't mind if I steal you for a dance, right?"

They both turn to Nate, who laughs, as Blair sends him warning glances. "Only for awhile?"

"Of course."

It sends chills through her body when he touches her, when he holds her and his breath tickles her skin. She's visibly stiff too; somehow she can't help but think that everyone's eyes are watching them intently. Were they? She pulls as far out as she can without seeming like they're dancing two feet apart.

"Why are you really here?"

"To celebrate your wedding anniversary. I was best man, if you remember." His voice is smooth, as always, but there's a bitterness to it to remind her that he had fought for her, and that it was she who refused him.

When Nate had announced their wedding, she remembers, his face crumpled up as if someone had physically hit him. She hadn't expected it then; she'd assumed he would get over her soon, just like he always seemed to before. And when he'd excused himself from the party, she followed him with her eyes as he bought a drink and sat in the corner. During their wedding, she was half-hoping he would call in sick—certainly no one would blame him. But he didn't, and he stood behind Nate as they said their vows and made a polite toast later on at their recepction.

"We both know that's not real purpose. You wouldn't have needed a model by your side."

He smirks. But she thinks there's a hidden sadness in his expression.

"You know me well, Archibald."

"Can't you just leave me alone?" She hopes it sounded rude, impatient, and not weak.

"I love you."

"Chuck, please, not now—"

"Don't say that. I love you."

"I love Nate," she tells him, her firm voice wavering. "It doesn't matter if—if you love me, or not."

"You said it would've mattered before."

She decides to take a cue from Audrey. "When this song finishes, leave. Say you have an urgent meeting, or some other thing you have to attend to."

"Why should I?"

"I want you to. And then next time we see each other, ignore me. Shoot me insults if you feel the need to. That's better, I guess."

He looks wounded, finally resigned and tired.

"And tell Daniel to stop hounding my daughter. He treated her like shit last time."

Chuck just looks at him, half angry, and half sadly. It's his worst look, it's the one that can break her most.

"So we can't even be friends anymore?"

"No." She decides to make it even more clear. "I'm done, and you mean nothing to me."

"Fine," he spits out.

When the song ends, he makes a little mock bow and leaves. He doesn't wait for his date, who ends up heading home alone too, but nods at Nate and exits the door. Dorota watches him too, and sends Blair a curious look.

It feels like someone should just rip her heart out.

"Where's Chuck going?" Serena asks.

"Business," she replies shortly. "Have you seen Nate?"

"He's with Josiah."

Blair sees him fix Josiah's bow with a grin, as her son grumbles something. "This isn't as perfect as I wanted it to be," she admits, looking away.

"I know, B. It's okay."

"I don't feel like it is."

"Ms. Blair?" Dorota holds out a phone out for her with a shocked face. "It's for you."

Blair heads to the telephone, her heels clicking all the way."Hello?"

"B—Blair?"

She presses the phone closer to her ear. "Mrs. Archibald?"

"The Captain has—" There's some sobbing over the line, and Blair grows worried.

"What happened to the captain? Anne?"

"He's had a heart attack."

Blair waits in dread for the rest of the news; surely it was coming. Nate's smiling at her from across the room, and she feels horrible for him.

"He—He's passed away."

**This chapter is definitely sad, don't you think? Next chapter is how people deal with it. By the way, I just want to clarify that this has nothing to do with Rufus and Lily; I didn't get my idea for this story from them.**


	11. Chapter 11

The funeral is held in a church, more like a cathedral, really, a few days after the death of Nate's father. Chuck knows they've been estranged for a long time now, but maybe that was what made the whole thing worse, that the Captain had overdosed on drugs , causing the fatal heart attack, before he could make peace with his son. And now Nate stood impassively before the body, his mother sobbing hysterically beside him. His family stood a few steps behind, lingering, all with somber expressions on their faces.

Chuck glances at Daniel beside him. He looks torn, conflicted.

"You okay?" he asks.

Daniel nods. "I. . .This is so surreal."

"It'll sink in."

They're sitting at the side quietly, both watching the people they love from behind. It's a chilly day, and Chuck figures it's fitting after all; the heavy gray clouds, the cold air, the dark sky. He feels terrible for Nate, and he's been thinking of things to do to help his friend like he'd once helped him, but nothing comes to mind. At least, nothing he could do with Blair watching.

"Brothers and sisters. . ."

* * *

He found her sitting alone at the front pew, her eyes so lost. It had begun to rain.

"Prayer suits you, Archibald."

She's staring blankly at the altar. "I don't know what to say."

"To who?"

"Nate." She sounds so damn lost it tugs at is heart, but this time, he's not letting it show. The few steps he takes closer to her echoes resoundingly in the church. "His father just died, and I don't really know what to do."

He wonders if this was how she'd felt when his father died, if this was how he made her feel.

"You don't have to," he replies reluctantly. "Just. . .make sure he knows you're there for him. And when he asks for you, then you'll know he's ready to. . .let you in."

Her eyes look up. He's taken aback at their softness.

"Let him remember you love him. But give him time."

"Thank you, Chuck," she replies uncertainly, and gratefully. She's obviously not mentioning the other night."He's going to need a friend like you."

"Well, he was there for me before."

That she was too didn't need to be mentioned; it was an unspoken understanding.

"I guess so."

"Plus, he has you."

"Have you seen him?" she asks, straining to see behind him.

He hesitates, even just to keep her for himself a little while longer. "Outside. With his mother."

Quickly, she sniffs and stands up from the pew. "Thanks."

"You'd probably want to wait a little though. He's still comforting her."

She gives a tight smile. "I'll have to find Audrey and Josiah anyways."

"Oh. Okay." He braves a smile as she brushes past him, and once again, he reminds himself that she loves someone else.

* * *

He visits Nate a couple of times, and it's always the same. Blair is always by his side with gentle, worried eyes, and he's always subtly touching her as if saying he appreciates her presence. It kills him to see that is friend is doing what he failed to do. And even if it's completely selfish(a trait he's never bothered denying), he wishes Nate would lash out on her or push her away. Maybe then she'd come back to him.

What the hell is he thinking?

"How are your children?" he asks, eyeing Blair in a cream-colored blouse. Her lips are pursed, a sign that she's displeased somehow.

"Audrey and Josiah were never much close to him," Nate explains. "I didn't let them. He sent gifts, money on their birthdays. . .That was it, though."

"They're just shocked," Blair tells him.

"Everyone is," he agrees. "The Captain was supposed to be clean, wasn't he?"

"He lied, no surprise there," Nate replied darkly.

"How's your mother?"

Nate shakes his head. "Honestly, I don't know how bad it is for her. I think she's doing as good as she can."

"And you?"

Blair holds his arm and meets Nate's eyes with a small smile. Chuck stops halfway to rolling his eyes in disgust, or to preserve his own feelings.

"He's fine," she answers for him. She's looking at Chuck as if he's a threat just by being there. The grief finally wore off enough, he thinks, because she could never forget that she'd told him to ignore her. Apparently, she 's back to hating him.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Nate asks him.

He glances at Blair. "I. . .don't want to intrude."

"You won't be, man."

"Don't force him, sweetie," she says sweetly. "Chuck's busy."

"Right. I can't stay anyway." Chuck clears his throat. She's made it clear enough he's not wanted, and it's nothing to stay for, unless seeing them together again counts. "Daniel's waiting for me, and we have plans."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Nathaniel," he replies, feigning exasperation. "But then again, it depends: what are you having for dinner?"

Nate laughs.

* * *

"Did you see Audrey?" Daniel asks him later on.

"No. Just Mr. And mrs. Archibald."

"Speaking of Mrs. Archibald, dad," Daniel starts to say. Chuck tries to stay calm and raises his eyebrows. "I know the two of you were at the theatre watching us."

"Would it help if I blamed her?" he teases.

"Not really. It doesn't really matter."

Chuck sighs in relief. "Did Audrey know?"

Daniel shrugs, telling Chuck it's a touchy subject, and pours both of them drinks. "You know, sometimes being a Bass is a curse."

"I agree." Chuck smiles faintly and thinks of Blair.

"Ever think of running away?"

"Believe me, I've done that my whole life."

* * *

The next time he sees her is at the Met, and it's an accident. She's wearing a slim dress, simple and casual, and she'd with Audrey. His heart starts getting faster at the sight of her, but when their eyes meet, hers are as cold and unforgiving as steel. He merely looks away and turns to something in front of him. At the corner of his eye, he sees her doing the same.

In a few minutes, he finds himself rushing out for some cold air to fill his lungs and clear his head. All he can think about is how much he regrets everytime he screwed up between them, that he could be happy if he'd done things properly.

"Get a grip on yourself Bass," he mutters harshly. "You're losing it."

**TBC**

**Next chapter: Chuck gets drunk. And when people get drunk, they confess things. **


	12. Chapter 12

**I don't think this will finish by April 1. . .**

* * *

_Temptation is the fire that brings up the scum in the heart._

_-William Shakespeare_

* * *

She pushes the doors to an old fashioned lounge and scans the room briefly for a dark mop of hair. He is at the corner, a bottle of wine before him, a glass in his hands. Blair takes a deep breath and walks to him, her heart thundering traitorously.

"Archibald. . .?" he says, and his words are slurring a little. He's drunk , and it makes it less awkward, she thinks, because she's pretty sure he won't even remember much. It's much better than being near sober Chuck.

"Nate sent me instead. He couldn't make it."

"I figured."

"Really?" she asks curiously, setting her bag down and taking the seat across him.

"Yeah." He looks down on his drink. "Only reason why you'd come."

She almost smiles sadly at that. A few weeks ago, she'd told him to basically stay away, and surprisingly, he did, and even if it was what she wanted, it didn't feel right. Nate still didn't know about them, though technically they hadn't done anything wrong. Of course, he didn't think there was anything wrong with asking Blair to meet Chuck in his stead. And she couldn't refuse Nate, not when she didn't have a valid reason.

"You look beautiful."

"You're drunk," she replies.

"You're. . .unfathomable. And cruel."

"You're an ass."

He pours himself another glass clumsily. "You're a bitch."

She fights a losing battle of not smiling. It's not good that she's looking forward to their next verbal spar.

"Oh. . .I'm sorry, did you want a drink?" he asks, waving his glass dangerously.

"No thank you. One of us has to be sober."

"Suit yourself."

She crosses her legs and watches him drink almost the whole bottle, what remained of it, at least. And something looked amiss to her, a part of him that didn't feel the same. He looks thinner, somehow and his eyes darker, with circles under them and he doesn't insult every second he gets to. She blames this all on the economic crisis, the perfect reason, she thinks. Not that she's worried.

"How's Nathaniel?" he slurs.

"He's fine. We're doing fine."

"I'm sure," he says below his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I can't believe you have the nerve to still invite Nate for a drink," she tells him smoothly.

" No. . ." He shakes his head. "Nathaniel. . .He invited me."

"Well, you had a nerve to accept."

"You don't control my life," he says sarcastically, with a rueful smile. "I'm Chuck Bass. . ."

"He's mu husband."

"Then tell him."

"No, I'd rather not, thank you. Unlike you, I value you my relationships," she replied sweetly, a barb in her tone. "You Basses don't. Not even your son."

"Hey—" Chuck hiccupped and excused himself with a little chuckle. "Daniel's a good kid."

"You keep saying that."

"It's true."

"So you're saying running away is just in your genes?"

"Look who's talking," he mutters. She frowns, knowing she'll be tempted to ask about that.

"What are you talking about now?" she says, trying an impatient tone. "You know, listening to you drunk rambling is as interesting as watching—"

"Like hell you don't know what I'm talking about," he interrupted, his tone louder. "Like hell you haven't run away before, back to your _husband_."

"Because he is my husband!"

"Before he was, Blair! I was there," he says passionately quiet. His eyes don't look like someone drunk's. He looks sober. "You ignored all my phone calls, my letters, my emails. . .I was there and you ran away."

She looks at him, in what she hopes is an impassive stare. He shakes his head at her and pours himself another drink, gulps it quick, and refills his glass. She wants to say something about wondering how long it would be before the drinking catches us with him, but it's not the right time.

She spends the next hour holding her phone, wishing someone would interrupt the awkward silence between them. Nobody does, and a few times, she flips it open and pretends to be texting when she isn't. He drinks like she isn't there.

"It's late," she says impatiently. "And I think you've drunken enough to ensure you're going to need a liver transplant."

"You can. . .go home ahead," he mumbles. "Leave."

"And what about you?" she asks in a prissy tone.

"You don't care."

She hesitates. "Chuck."

"Life's unfair, Archibald. Deal with it," he scoffs. His words are coming together, and she's having difficulty understanding him. "Worse for me."

"When you're selfish, that's what you think."

He looks up. "And you're not?"he asks, sharply for someone whose drunken almost the entire bottle of scotch.

She rolls her eyes and sighs. Nate would understand what she's about to do; after all, it's his fault she's here. "Let's get you home, okay? Where's your driver?"

"Outside," he mutters and attempts to stand. He waves and Blair quickly holds him still, and he places his arm around her shoulders, throwing a couple of bills on the table. She thinks his breath smells like mint and scotch; almost irresistible.

Almost.

"Come on," she says, guiding him to the door. Most of his weight is on her and she bites her lip to keep from complaining. He tries to pull away but fall sback and nearly makes them both topple to the ground.

"Sorry," he slurred. She almost has to push him into the limo, and he leans against the window as far as could be from her. He looks asleep from where she sits, and she wishes too that she could.

The driver thankfully helps her bring Chuck up to his bedroom as he's half-asleep, and fully drunk. He throws up twice into the toilet, Blair looming above him(not worriedly), and ready to help him back up. And when he does look up again, his eyes look empty, red and tired. He looks sick.

She brings him back to his bed and pulls the cover over him, and watches him steadily.

He looks like a lost little boy, and as much as she hates it, it kills her.

"Blair?"

"Go to sleep, Chuck." She looks into her purse, searching for her phone, and trying to ignore him as he looks at her from his bed.

"Don't leave? Please."

"She sighs and lowers her purse. "I have to."

"Just for awhile."

Reluctantly, she sits next to him on the bed, figuring she'll leave when he falls asleep. Somehow, she gets to lying next to him, though she's put her arm in between them, just in case. Her eyes are closing, damn it, and she can still smell him from where she is.

Suddenly, she feels something on her lips, _someone._ She opens her eyes and in the darkness, she can make out his eyes over hers, his lips against hers. She can't find the strength to pull away, and it's one of those nightmares when you feel helpless against someone else. Except in this dream, in this nightmare, she wants it so badly she's scared.

She finds the strength to push him a little, but his lips are still too near.

"Chuck. . .what--?"

"Tell me you don't want it," he whispers. It's the second time this night that he doesn't seem as drunk as he is. "Tell me and I'll stop."

He buries his head in the crook between her shoulder and neck, kissing the latter gently. She gives a little sigh, and thinks: _fuck it._

"I can't."

He gives her a little smile and kisses her lips again, deeply; it's like the fire she hasn't tasted in years.

"I love you, Blair," he finds time to say.

Before long, clothes are on the ground, and they're making love like only they can.

* * *

Blair knocks on the Humphrey residence's door and sighs, closing her eyes for a little moment. She didn't sleep too well last night. A maid answers the door and she waits in the living room for Serena, smiling at her children, her godchildren, on the way.

"B! This is a surprise. . .It's only nine in the morning. Dan's still asleep, actually."

Blair nods, her blood running cold in her. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" Serena asks, her eyebrows knitting in worry. She flutters next to Blair on the couch. "Are you okay? You look like you haven't slept."

"I. . .Serena, I've done a horrible thing."

Serena withdraws a little.

Blair tries to phrase this as easily as she can.

"Last night, I cheated on Nate. With Chuck."

She looks at Serena, her face crumpled in helplessness.

"Oh my God, B."

**Well, then? Did that deserve any reviews? Please tell me why or why not!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Almost April 1, and I still have a million things to take care of!**

"I snuck away this morning. Nate didn't look too convinced when I told him I just went home late and woke early," Blair tells Serena blankly, her voice quiet. "I feel so. . .dirty."

"And what did Chuck say?"

"Nothing. He was still asleep."

"The night before?"

Blair pauses and looks at Serena. "He told me he loved me again. But then again, he was drunk both time—"

"Both times? Again?" Serena questions incredulously. "Blair, when did the last time happen?"

"That's not important," Blair says—nearly pulling her own hair in frustration—, waving her hand. "S, I've committed adultery! I'm not religious but it's still horrible. And it's not like in high school. Now, I have children and a life!"

Serena looks at her, in thought. "Would you do it again?" she asks after a moment.

Blair opens her mouth to answer, but hesitates.

"Oh my God, you would!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to; I saw it in you."

"What am I going to do?" she asked, groaning. "I mean, I love Nate too."

"So you're saying you love Chuck?" Serena asks pointedly.

"I don't know," Blair admits, biting her lower lip. "S, help me. I think I might."

The doorbell rings again, and Serena tells her rushing maid that she'll get the door. She swings the door open, still facing Blair.

"So now that you and Chuck—"

Speaking of the devil.

"Chuck, what are you doing here?"

"Nathaniel told me Blair was here," he says, stepping in quickly. Blair frowns at him from the living room as he walks in with Serena right behind.

"Come in," Serena mutters. "But what are you doing here?"

"Are you out of your mind? Going to Nate the day after you had his wife?" Blair demands, her voice shakily angry. "Don't you know anything, Bass?"

"I know when I woke up this morning, you weren't beside me anymore. Blair, please, what was I supposed to do?" he asks. She can hear the silent frustration in his voice.

"Call, maybe?" Blair replies icily.

"Look, you guys, you both obviously have to talk," Serena interjects. "But could you just tone it down a bit? I don't want my children knowing these things."

"We do not have to talk," Blair retorts. "I'm married, and that's it."

"That's it? We sleep together for one night and that's it? It's not like there's no strings attached or anything," Chuck replies sarcastically.

"That's exactly it. There are strings attached, and between you and my family, there's no competition. I can't leave them."

"So why did you let me do it then? Last night."

"I wasn't. . .ready, for it," she answers uncertainly. "You caught me by surprise, and that will never happen again."

Chuck sighs. Blair's going into denial mode again, just when he'd thought something was happening. He throws a quick glance at Serena, who nods and disappears into the kitchen.

"Blair, don't do this."

"Do what?"

"That. Running away."

"Why not? You did it."

"I didn't do it for two decades," he points out. "Aren't you tired of it? I am."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" she asks. "Leave everyone I love and run to you? Then how long are we going to last—a couple of weeks, months, a year?"

"Don't you love me?"

The question lingers in the air as he watches her features for a reaction. A part of her stiffens, and withdraws a little, looking unsure. Does he disgust her with this emotional talk? It's not like him, he knows that, but with Blair.. .things were always different.

No matter, he doesn't want to care anymore; he's throwing everything for her, except Daniel; his pride, and the game. Everything.

"I. . .I don't know."

"It's a simple question, Blair."

She looks away, her eyes filling with tears that if he hadn't been watching intently he would've never seen.

"And I promise you, it won't be just for a short while. It's different this time—"

"Because we have children and obligations."

"Forget about that for a minute," he tells her, earning a shocked, horrified look. "Don't involve them first. This is about you and me, but you make the choice."

"I can't. I can't decide everything now, Chuck. You can't expect me to," she says, shaking her head. "You think this is easy for me? It's not."

"I know. It isn't easy for me either," he admits gently. "But we can't be miserable all our lives—"

"I'm not."

"I am," he offers softly. "And I know I have a son to take care of, but sometimes, I just want to be selfish, think of me. It's that I know I was wrong, and I can do so much better that's the worst part."

Despite herself, Blair could not suppress the curl of her lips. "Nice speech, Bass."

He grins. "Is it enough to convince you?"

She sighs, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Not quite."

It reminded him of older times, when he and Blair would stay locked up in a room for hours, plotting and planning against somebody else. They would rack their heads and drink until they had a solution none of them could shoot down with flaws. But this time, it feels so much different. For one, Chuck isn't even sure who they're fighting.

"How about we. . ." Chuck paces the room, his eyes absentmindedly trailing the Humphrey family's vacation pictures on the mantelpiece. "Get away for awhile."

"What? Are you still drunk?"

"No," he says, breaking a smile. "You know, we could go somewhere, figure things out, see if we can last a few days without killing each other."

She frowns disapprovingly. He knows it's not her nature.

"Won't that just be even more wrong?"

"We're halfway deep into sin already."

"So why would you want to sink in deeper?"

He shrugs. "It might help. Come one, after this, we'll have a better shot of making a choice."

He meets her eyes, hoping she would see how sincere he is in this with her. Just because he's in love doesn't mean he's irrational—for the most part—he knows this is crazy, even for them. He's not intentionally destroying their marriage, he reasons, because he cares about Nathaniel, which is why they're doing it in secret. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"Blair?"

"You really think this is going to help us?"

"If not, what will?" Chuck gets on his knees before her, looking up closely, so that her eyes are all he can see. "Look, the Bass jet can take us anywhere. No one would know. It won't hurt anyone, all right? We need this."

"This is a crazy plan, Chuck," she whispers.

"I know."

"I'll. . .I'll think about it."

He allows himself to smile, his own heart fluttering along to the butterflies. It wasn't forever, but a few days would be enough for now. He would make her see how much he loved her.

Blair shakes her head and turns sideways. "What kind of mother am I? Audrey and Josiah don't need this. . .Nate doesn't deserve this."

"My son wouldn't like it either," he tells her, soaking the guilt up. "But we have to do what we think is best."

For a moment there, he thinks she's going to retort that, the "best" that they could do. But Blair just glances at him, listless, as if he had said nothing at all.

"The company will be okay with it?"

Chuck thinks of his board of directors, his associates and all the papers mounting high on his desk. It could not compare to living without Blair.

"They'll be fine for a couple of days."

"Where do we go? It's not easy for us to disappear."

He grins. "I think I know the perfect place, since we're now officially having an affair."

"Oh, what did I get myself into?" she moans softly, with a small, smile, tucked behind her lips. It isn't much, just a hidden one, but it's enough to make him feel better.

"It's just the beginning."

**My biggest fear or challenge in this chapter was making it more "real". I didn't want Blair and Chuck to suddenly forget about their responsibilities. . .I think I did a terrible job at it, but you tell me, please!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I don't know if you guys already watched 'The Grandfather', but I just want to say that finally, there are Cb scenes again. The show's ratings are still bad, though I think it's because some fans are gettng irritated. Oh, well, never mind; please review at the end!**

* * *

_The love in the heart long pent, now loose, now at last tumult_uously _bursting,_

_-Walt Whitman_

* * *

Years ago when her parents were in the process of divorce, Blair had wondered why her father chose to leave her mother when they loved each other, after all. Didn't they love each other, didn't they love her? She could never understand why her father could not have simply stayed away from Roman and not have left them. Even after Roman was made one of the family, the confusion, the frustration remained. And when Eleanor found Cyrus, it was another betrayal, no matter how nice he was to her, it felt like she was being replaced.

But it was only now she's seeing things in a new light.

She used to blame weak will for the end of her parents' marriage. Never love, because it was unreasonable, never fate, because it went against what she wanted, and never to find a greater happiness, because they were happy as a family.

Now, she thinks it's forgivable, what Harold did. Because in this moment, when she is sitting in a cab on her way to the airport, Blair understands exactly what her father had gone through.

"We're here, miss," the cab driver says loudly, pulling over. "JFK airport."

Blair looks up suddenly, checking outside the window. "Oh, right." She reaches out to hand the fare.

She steps out with her bags and reminds herself of the enormity of what she's choosing to do. But before she loses all her courage, she steps into the airport and finds a cart to put her bags on. It wasn't really the easiest thing to do; lying to Nate and the kids, packing her bag for a trip she knows just might ruin everything, choosing_ him._ There was a feeling of disgust, of uncertainty in her stomach all throughout, and even now, it persists.

The airport's busy as always. People on their phones and talking to someone else; it's only know she feels so apart from them all.

"Blair!"

She musters a half-smile to meet his wide one as he weaves his way to her.

"You came," he says softly. "I thought—I didn't think you were—"

"Me too."

"What made you come?"

"I didn't want to be stuck all my life," she replies faux easily, looking away from his earnest gaze. There's something about it that troubles her; him being so happy to see her, when she herself is having second thoughts about the whole thing.

"Well, I'm really glad you came." He checked the time and took her hand, nearly shocking her. "Come on."

She follows him, silently, taking in that sick feeling in her stomach. In fact, she hardly realizes it when she's on the Bass jet already until he grins back at her, asking her opinion of it.

"So what do you think? The interiors are new, replaced them with this cream colored leather. Oh, and I had the bar restocked. Want anything?"he asks, as a scotch is placed before him.

"No, no thanks. It's nice."

He raises his eyebrow at the last statement, but says nothing, and settles down on the seat.

"So Tuscany?" she questions, to make it less obvious how faraway her thoughts are.

He chuckles. "I wanted to make up for. . .last time. But we could always change destination, I mean, if you want. Do you?"

She would laugh at how nervous he is, but so is she. "No, Tuscany's great. You _do_ owe me."

"Oh, and by the way, I checked us in as Mr and Mrs Bass," he tells her, smirking.

"What?"

"Would you want them to know what we're doing? Press can be tricky."

"And that's why you 'married' us?"

"Yes. For your own good."

She laughs. "I don't believe you, Mr Bass."

"Well, Mrs Bass, you should put your faith in your husband—"

"Oh, as if I'd ever marry you," she interjects, trying not to smile. "Ass."

"I just might divorce you now," he teases.

"My pleasure. But then, I would get millions of dollars as per divorce settlement."

"You didn't think I'd draw up a prenup?"he asks, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Weren't you the one talking about faith? And anyways," she adds as an afterthought. "If we ever do get married, which in itself has minimal chance, who says I'm taking your name?"

"Because you took Nathaniel's."

Funny, she thinks, expecting a sudden outburst of guilt, nothing comes. Nothing. She pauses for a moment, makes herself think of her family. Still nothing. She's at awe at how Chuck has made her feel better.

"Blair Archibald versus Blair Bass? I'll take Archibald any day."

"That's what you say now, Mrs _Bass_," he replies with a coy grin. "Wait until we get to Tuscany."

"And is that a bet? That you can make me fall in love with you by the time we get home?"

"Since you already are, I probably win by default."

A retort is on the tip of her tongue, but his eyes are so dark, and sincere, yet with that look of teasing that she can't help but stow it away for his sake. And he's probably right, though by saying it, it feels even more strange that the past few weeks of thinking about it.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. Please buckle your seatbelts and prepare for takeoff. We're expected to arrive at Tuscany at 9:30 pm. Thank you."

They settle into a comfortable silence as they start to take off, and her ears start to hurt. Everytime she gets brave enough to steal a glance from him, there's a private smile on his face, small but there. It's been a long time since she's seen him so happy, and it feels nice.

And as she snuggles next to him and he doesn't flinch, for once, she doesn't feel the need to remind herself about what she could lose.

She slips into a deep slumber that she's been longing for a long time now.

* * *

"We're in Tuscany, Blair," he murmurs, shaking her gently. "Look out the window."

Her eyes flutter open and look around, finally settling on the smile on his face.

"My sleeping beauty," he greets.

"You wish, Mr Bass." Blair reaches for her bottle of water; her throat feels a bit dry, or sore. She drowns nearly half of the otherwise untouched bottle.

"Are you sure about this, Blair?" he asks her.

She purses her lips. "No. But I'm here already, aren't I?"

"I just want you to actually _be_ here. You seemed distracted when we met at the airport." Lines appear on his brow, his eyes trying to read her.

"Are _you_ sure?" she asks in return, expecting a negative to make her point.

"Yes."

"Are you lying?"

"No. And I'm starting to feel compromised here," he says lightly.

"I just want to know what you're expecting from this. . .rendezvous."

"Hoping and expecting are two different things, Mrs Bass."

"Give me both of them."

He releases a deep breath; she thinks he looks tired.

"Knowing you, I'd probably be nothing more as a fond memory after this," he starts slowly, fiddling with his fingers. The smile is gone from his face, but she can see the effort to sound light hearted and it breaks her. "But. . ."

"But what?"

"I'd rather not say."

She pouts. "Mr Bass! What is it?"

"Nothing!"

"You just made it plainly obvious there was," she retorts. "Come on, tell me."

He rolls his eyes playfully. "If we were married, this is how we'd argue?"

"You're changing the subject," she accuses. This is the most relaxed she's been in weeks.

"I am not," he rebuffs. "I was just. . .thinking, that's all."

"Well, you're wrong. Because we would have divorced a year after getting married."

It's what she's told herself for so long that it feels like the truth, as if she knows that's exactly what would've happened. He looks amused, so in return, she pulls on a sure face.

"Why do you keep saying we'd be divorced?" he muses, nursing a faux hurt tone.

"The last time was you," she reminds him. "Plus, I'm just referring to our past, that's all."

"You know what I think?" He leans in closer to her, and she closes her eyes for a moment to take in his scotch and mint breath; delicious. "I think we would have been a great couple."

Then he kisses her; softly, deeply, slowly. If she had her way in that state of mind, it would never have stopped at all.

**I just want to know. . .Do you guys prefer a happy or bttersweet ending? I'm leaning towards the latter.**


	15. Chapter 15

The porter deposits their bags in the hallway of the spacious suite in old-fashioned elegance; the dim lights, the lush carpet, the flickering warm fire in marble fireplace, the plush velvet of the seats, the dark mahogany wood on a bed, its size surpassing any they had seen before greeting their tired eyes. There are rare and flowing pieces of art everywhere, and since Tuscany may as well be the art capital of the world, it's no surprise.

"Anything else, signor?"

"No, everything's fine." Chuck hands the porter a twenty bill. "Shut the door on your way out."

"Ringraziarla, signor." _Thank you, sir._ The door shuts softly behind them, and they're finally alone.

His eyes are on her; they always are these days, and she's eyeing everything carefully, as if inspecting his choice of suite. Pleasure wells up in him and on impulse, he wraps her in his arms from behind, his lips on her graceful taut neck.

"How do you like it Mrs Bass?" he murmurs.

She pretends to be displeased. At least he thinks so. "Please stop calling me Mrs Bass."

"How do you like it, _darling_?"

"You've outdone yourself, Chuck."

"Good. I was hoping we'd spend most of our time here."

She turns and puts on a teasing, coy smile. "Not if I can help it."

"Oh, God, don't tell me you already made a schedule for us."

"As a matter of fact, I did. We can't miss any of the sites I planned for us."

"Are you serious?" he questions with a smile. He doesn't say that it doesn't matter where he goes, really, as long as it's with her. After all, they have only a week together. "And what about the plans_ I_ had, Mrs Bass?"

"Well, since we're married in your mind, I get to win," she replies as a matter-of-factly, teasing.

"And why is that?"

"Because the wife always wins, Chuck. You'd be too scared I'd leave you."

He winds his fingers around her waist, and somehow, a retort of winning only against Nathaniel comes to mind. But stopping to think, he realizes it may scare Blair into denial again, ruin their week. He bites it back and kisses her cheek affectionately.

"You're right," he tells her. "Whatever you want to do, we'll do it."

Her phone rings loudly, echoing in the room. She throws him an apologetic, quick smile, pulls her phone out and shuffles to the corner to answer it. He walks nearby to the bar and pours himself something that looks close to his dear Scotch, since he doesn't understand much of Italian, straining to hear her conversation. A few words are all he can make out: "fine, just arrived, okay, kids, Tuscany's great, hotel information, Anne." Chuck gives up after a few minutes and takes his glass of wine to the desk where he examines brochures and menus that bore him, except there's nothing to do.

"That was Nate," Blair explains a few minutes(too long, he thinks) after, a bottle of water and a pack of Strepsils in her hand. She gulps some water down and pops in one Strepsil tab.

He examines her face for a trace of fear, or withdrawal, or anything he should be warned against. But Blair has always been good at hiding herself, and all he can find is a smaller smile than the one he left on her.

"What now?"

"He just wanted to make sure I landed safely, like he always does when I fly out." She pauses and he leads her to the bed where they lie facing each other. "He's a good husband."

He keeps silent, pondering on the statement.

"Anne's staying over again. It's been difficult for her, sleeping alone in her bed without the Captain."

Funny, he's slept in an empty bed most of his life. Excluding those women he never really felt anything for, of course.

"Nate also said something about Daniel coming over. I think it's good for now that Audrey's being stubborn and refusing to accept his apology. Josiah wants a new lacrosse stick, and Nate says he received detention for fighting with this other boy who was insulting Audrey. He's a good brother."

Chuck shifts and tries to keep the bitterness from surfacing on his face. It isn't like he wants to, or needs to here this, her talking about her family while she's with him. Why can't she see that? The purpose of this trip is to figure things out alone, and yet she's still thinking of them. It's supposed to be just them, no one else.

He never would have predicted himself to be jealous of a little boy.

"I'm tired. Can we just sleep?" she breathes, and he finds that her eyes are looking straight into him. He looks away subtly, at her bare arm, and with his fingers trace her smooth, cool skin. His lips find their way to touch them, softly, and it's killing him, because he's had years without this. It isn't enough yet.

For a fraction of a second there, his eyes suddenly cross hers; somehow he feels she's figured him out in that time.

"Sorry," he mumbles, and stops. He shuts the lights and pulls the covers over them.

"What's wrong with you?" she whispers.

"I'm tired," he replies shortly, pursing his lips for a smile. "And you're right. We should just sleep."

"That's not it. Chuck, I know you."

He smiles ruefully and snuggles in closer, despite the size of the whole bed. Kissing her, he slides one of his hands under the snug covers and reaches for hers.

"Nothing. I'm just. . .I can't believe this is happening, that's all," he lies.

"Me too." And she gives a little laugh through her nose. "Who would ever believe _I_, of all people, would do this?"

He kisses her again. "Me. I know your dark side, Archibald."

A furrow appears quickly on her brow—he can see with the moonlight—at the last word he said.

"Are you still not going to tell me what you hope will come out of this?"

"No. If it happens, though I'll tell you," he whispers.

"Life is absurd."

"Life is absurd," he agrees, and closes his eyes. Maybe he should whisper a prayer of thanks for bringing her to him again. Maybe that would help him hold on to her, with divine intervention.

Later when he's sure she's asleep, and he still isn't, he tells her he loves her over and over and over again. It's all probably hopeless, he knows, but no matter, he's still going to fight for her to love him again.

**TBC:)**

**Soon, I hope, since I don't know if they have English computers in China.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: China is awesome! Don't know when I'll update next, however.**

Her throat is throbbing, aching, painful.

Blair rolls over to her side and in her sleepily delirious state tries to swallow. It hurts even more, and she winces at the pain that feels like a sharp blade she had swallowed stuck in her throat. _Fuck._ If there's one thing she hates more than anything, it's this feeling: being sick, when its not cold and yet you feel oddly shivery. But she wonders if it's just her mind playing tricks.

Against the bright sunlight, she opens her eyes. He's already dressed in a new suit, his hair still a little wet, it seems, from taking a shower, and talking to someone on his cellphone. He's facing the window overlooking Tuscany, and from what she can make out, he voice is strained and frustrated.

"No, I already told you, cancel everything this week and move it to next week," he bit out, trying to keep his voice in check, she thinks. "Look--I'm sorry, you'll just have to. . .Tell Mr. Kiyoto we'll pay for all his expenses. Yes, yes, I'm sure."

When he turns back with a sigh, his eyes convey surprise at seeing her sitting up. She doesn't fail to notice how tired his eyes look.

"What time is it?" she asks him. Seas of silence seem to stretch before them.

"Nearly noon." And then he pauses, as if hesitating to go near her. "Did I wake you?"

"No. But why didn't you?"

"You said you were tired."

"Are you?"

He frowns, his eyes shifting to the phone in his hands. "No. Woke at eight."

"Early," she responds. It feels awkward again, as if last night didn't even matter anymore, all forgotten. She twists the edge of a pillow and thinks of something else to say. But her throat hurts too much, and her mind feels heavy.

"So how did you sleep?"

She tries to smile. "Better than in a long time," she replies, hoping for a smirk or smile on his lips. She receives a small ghost of the former, and is disappointed. "Do we have plans today?"

"You do. I'm just going to follow--wherever you want to go." His footsteps thuds against the carpet as he walks into the bedroom, and sits next to her on the bed. "You decide."

"I have it in my planner. Let me take a shower first?"

He smirks, half-heartedly. "Is that an invitation?"

"Not really," she laughs, an effort considering how lightheaded and shivery, strangely, she feels. "Give me ten minutes."

He cocks an eyebrow.

"Okay, thirty." He places a quick kiss on her brow before she trudges off to get some clothes and head to the shower. And even as she does, she feels unwilling too, certain that she's sick, that her throat is not just dry but it really is sore. Then again, she reminds herself, she's always been a hypochondiac.

So she turns her mind to something else when cold--too cold--water splashes from the shower head down to her: Chuck. He seems distant when he spoke to her earlier, like something had happened in between last night or this morning. Blair tries to recall the look on his face, to analuze it. Was it. . .resignation? Maybe it was quiet bitterness. But over what? She had not done anything wrong yet, and no one knew where they were. Nate and her family certainly didn't, unless they were caught.

Twenty minutes later, she steps out and a breeze from nowhere chills her into shivers. The mirror reflecting her reflection seems to be relaying her feelings; she looks like she hasn't had a good night's sleep when she had, her eyes look redder than usual, her face paler. Blair doesn't have it in her gith now to care too much. Quickly, she dries herself and gets into warm clothes, aware of the throbbing in her head and throat. It's even colder outside the bathroom.

Blair uncaps the water bottle on the table and most of it. It doesn't help much, but at least her throat doesn't feel as dry. Now she's sick, and she knows it. Her mind puzzles over how to tell Chuck, hot to tell him without saying it in reality. It would ruin their week, she thinks bitterly. It would ruin everything.

"Maybe you're right, we should stay in," she tells Chuck, after finding him scanning over his files on the bed. Their bed. "I mean, we should just relax and let go of the jet lag today."

"I thought we agreed we do what you want."

"And now I'm saying we can do what _you_ want."

"What changed?"

"Nothing. Today, we do what you want, and tomorrow me," she replies calmly, attempting to appear perfectly fine. "Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it." He's propped on his elbows facing her. "I dressed for nothing, then."

She hopes the smile she puts on her face isn't too transparent. "I like a well-dressed man."

"Do you mind if I make a call or two?" He frowns. "It won't take too long. Just Daniel and an investor. It's just I haven't really taken a week-long vacation ever since I took over Bass Industries and had a son."

"Go ahead." She's relieved, actually. It's still early, and she's just woken up, but she feels exhausted. She can't keep pretending.

"You should order some breakfast."

"Not hungry."

He nods and goes to make his calls. She hears him debate and negotiate with the investor ; he's put off probably a dozen meetings and papers to fly with her to Tuscany; he put the business behind her, when he knows very well there are consequences. A mixture of guilt and gratitude and overwhelming appreciation fills her. Then talking to Daniel, he takes on a softer, but still paternal tone.

From across the suit, she smiles at him He nods back softly, and after a couple of seconds of looking at her, turns away.

"Blair, what food do you want? For brunch," Chuck says again. "We can't not eat the whole day."

A lump forms in her throat.

Tea, she thinks, would sooth her throat. With peppermint, or cinnamon."

"Bistecca Fiorentina. It's steak," Chuck suggets. She throws him a horrified look. "For me, not you," he adds with a chuckle. She wants to kiss that smile on his face.

She thumbs over the menu, but theres nothing enough for her to feign appetite for. But as she doesn't want Chuck to worry , she settles with a light salad and tea. Dialling room service, she repeats their orders and is told the food will be up as soon as possible.

Chuck is hauling more of his paperwork out from his briefcase to work in the other room. He follows her gaze and adds, "I just have to go over these contracts and sign them. It's not going to take too long. I'm really sorry, Blair."

Pausing. he lingers, and she half-expects him to lunge forward and kiss her. But he looks into her eyes intently for a few seconds and a blink later, he's already far away in another part of the suite. And this time, she knows that look on his face. Hurt and disappointment and frustration all in one.

But why? she wonders.

Everything seems to go obadly for them. Maybe it's divine intervention telling her adultery is not for her.

**Please review! Couldn't make it long. Busy.**


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